


Friendmates

by dontshootmespence



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Bourbon - Freeform, Gen, Pizza, Platonic Soulmates, Season/Series 15 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:07:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23163742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontshootmespence/pseuds/dontshootmespence
Summary: As the team’s new technical analyst, you have the biggest, sparkliest shoes to fill. Replacing the all-knowing oracle Penelope Garcia is impossible and it feels as though you’ll never form meaningful relationships with your team members. However, after a rough case, David Rossi enters the Bat Cave and finds that the two of you have quite a lot in common, leading to a friendship neither knew you needed.Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)
Relationships: David Rossi & Reader
Kudos: 24





	Friendmates

Taking a deep breath, your head fell back into the cushy chair you’d bought yourself for those days that seemed endless, your fingers typing faster than the speed of light. You had impossibly large shoes to fill. 

As much as you loved your job, hacking and staring at a blue-lit screen all day, doing it day in and day out for hours on end could take its toll. You closed your eyes and took another deep breath, allowing your racing heart to steady out. In the nick of time, you’d managed to pinpoint the location where the victim was being held, saving her life. It was exhilarating - and unbelievably terrifying. 

Rolling across the room, you grabbed a record from underneath your desk. Penelope had given you a little advice. Make the job and the space your own. Make sure the job doesn’t take away who you are. And give the rest of the team time to adjust to you because they suck at change. 

Growing up with a single father influenced you in more ways than one, not the least of which was your fondness for older music. Slipping the record onto the ‘new vintage’ record player you’d indulged in, you waited for the blues-y jazz of Coltrane to fill your office. 

A knock on the door startled you out of your reverie. “Who is it?”

“Rossi.”

“Come on in, Rossi!”

“Is this Coltrane I hear?” He asked happily.

You opened your eyes and saw him crouched down by your desk, searching the plethora of records you kept in the office. “Coltrane, Davis, Armstrong, Holliday, Fitzgerald…I could go on. Honestly, you can’t get better.”

“Truer words have never been spoken,” he said with a hint of surprise in his voice. “Not too common for someone your age to be into them though.”

Chuckling, you spun around on your chair and turned the computers off for the night. At first, you figured you’d get your paperwork done, but now you were relaxed; the paperwork could wait. “Definitely not. I was the weirdo growing up. Instead of being into 80s and 90s music, I was the old ass 10-year-old obsessed with Coltrane. Happens when you’re raised by a single dad.”

“Well, I have to say you have spectacular taste in music. How’re you doing? In your new role, I mean?”

For a moment, you hesitated. “I won’t lie. It’s tough. The team as you were was like this well-oiled machine. You knew each other’s idiosyncrasies and there was nothing you couldn’t accomplish. I feel like I’m throwing a wrench in things. And I feel like the team doesn’t want a new wrench, they won’t the old one back.”

Rossi looked at you sadly, knowing his ‘kids’ were not great with change in any way. Having Garcia leave was a big hit for them, both morally and professionally, even though they wanted what was best for her. “Look, Penelope was here for 15 years and she knew absolutely everything about everyone. Comparing yourself in year one to where she was in year fifteen isn’t fair to you. You can’t wear Garcia’s designer pumps, but you can wear your own.”

“I’m not a pumps girl. Can I wear custom Vans? And flats with bows on them?”

“Wear whatever makes you comfortable. It’ll translate into your work.”

“Thanks, Rossi.” Tension released from your shoulders. If Rossi believed in you after doing this for more than 40 years, then you could believe in yourself. “I needed that.”

“No problem,” he replied, squeezing your shoulder lightly. “Anytime, okay? Seriously.”

“I just might take you up on that.”

——

As the months ambled on, you grew closer with Rossi, going to dinner at his favorite Italian place and hanging out with he and Krystal at home. Thankfully, Krystal was cool with your relationship with Rossi; she never seemed jealous. It was nice to be around someone who was secure in their relationship. 

Eventually, the team didn’t look at you like you’d stolen their friend’s position. They’d ask questions about your life and how you spent your weekends, but there was still a long way to go, and it was emotionally draining on top of the BAU’s caseload. 

Waiting for the elevator, you tapped your feet against the linoleum floor. Everyone else had already left. Except for Rossi. “You’re still here?” You asked. “Would’ve thought you’d go home to Krystal? You guys okay?”

“Oh yeah,” he replied confidently. “She’s away for a few days with two of her girlfriends, so I figured I’d stay late and do my paperwork. You have any plans?”

“Not a one. I might go out with Penelope on Sunday. We’ve actually gotten really close.”

Rossi pressed the down button again, eager to get home. “She recommended you to us, so that doesn’t surprise me at all. If you have no plans, would you like to come over and drink old bourbon and listen to jazz on a real record player?”

Smiling, you nodded, walking into the elevator as he ushered you in. “That’d be awesome. You’re awesome. Thanks, Rossi.”

“For what?”

“Including me. Making me feel like part of the team.”

“You’re easy to talk to and easy to get along with,” he assured you, unlocking the car door for you.

On the ride home, Rossi stopped for a pizza from his place, which somehow had his order ready when he walked in the door despite not having placed an order ahead of time. “Pizza, bourbon and jazz? Rossi, you’re the best. God, that smells good. There’s nothing like good pizza. It’s in the crust, you know. Brick oven. Without a brick oven, it’s sheer imitation pizza.”

“This is what I’ve been telling Krystal,” he laughed.

Once inside, Rossi turned on some Miles Davis and poured you both a bourbon, which you picked up with your free hand. The other was currently holding a folded slice of pizza that you were stuffing in your face. “Another test of good pizza. Can you fold it and eat it without worrying about getting anything on your designer furniture?”

He laughed as his phone rang. it was Krystal just checking in to see how the case had gone. “All good. Could’ve been better, could’ve ended worse. Now I’m home. Y/N is with me and we’re drinking bourbon and eating pizza.”

“Hi, Krystal!” You called with your mouth full. 

She asked how you were through the phone, and you said better not you had food and drink. “Plus, your husband is my best friend. I hope that’s okay.”

“Definitely! Frankly, if it weren’t for you having to go on the case with everyone else, I would’ve invited you out with my girls.”

“Really? Where’d you go?”

“Just Atlantic city for the weekend.”

“Well, next time count me in.” 

Rossi cleared his throat. “Am I invited?”

“With the girls,” you said simultaneously. “No way.”

After saying goodbye, you grabbed another slice for both you and Rossi while he said goodnight to his wife. “I love you, honey. Have fun and be safe, please.”

You heard her laugh and call to her one of her girlfriends before she hung up. “Yes, Agent.” 

With a smile, he hung up the phone and put it on the small table next to the couch. “You really mean I’m your best friend?”

“Absolutely,” you replied, mouth full of cheese. “Hope that’s cool.”

“More than cool. I’ve had some best friends in my life. Jason Gideon, Aaron Hotchner, and we had a lot in common, but there’s some kind of ease with this relationship that I’ve never had aside from my wife.”

“We’re friendmates.”

“Friend soulmates?”

“That’s the one! More bourbon?” You asked, holding the bottle.

“You read my mind.”


End file.
